Search And Destroy
by Planeguy121
Summary: When a Navy officer is killed during an attack on an Air Force base, Gibbs has has to deal with another joint investigation. Will the teams catch the killer in time? Or will they manage to outsmart and outshoot our favorite Feds? Complete!
1. Breach and Clear

This story is a companion/prequel to my Uncharted/NCIS crossover. This is also a launching point for my NCIS fanfiction series following the AFOSI CI Team 2. Before I begin, there are some fundamental differences between NCIS and AFOSI that I would like to point out. First, NCIS is primarily civilian, with a small military component, while AFOSI is primarily military, with a small civilian component. However, for the function of the story, I included a civilian agent, because military AFOSI, NCIS, and CID agents cannot arrest civilians.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, nor am I affiliated in any way with the real life organizations of NCIS or AFOSI.

**December 27, 2011**

**Langley Air Force Base**

**Virginia, USA**

**0133 Hours**

Base security sprinted to the server room, their M4A1 carbines raised and loaded. As they stacked up at the door, Captain Anderson ordered "Breach in three, two, one!"

The soldiers swept into the server room, flashlights panning over silent machines, looking for any signs of movement.

"Clear," the rearguard announced.

"Clear here, too."

"Clear. No one's here, Anderson."

Anderson nodded, and got on the radio to Operations. "No one's here. The main power's still offline, but my men didn't find anything. No bodies, tools, debris. Whoever those guys were, they were professionals."

Operations radioed back. "Copy Security Six, we got you. A second patrol is searching the perimeter fence for breaches. So far they found two."

Anderson nodded, cold fear growing in his gut. This was not good, at all. Whoever got into the base managed to do so undetected, and managed to get out before Security could arrive. They could have downloaded a virus into the Predator mainframe, or stolen any number of classified secrets.

"Security One, this is Operations. OSI is en route, secure the area, and ensure none of your men touch _anything_, over."

Anderson nodded, even though Operations could not see him. "Copy, Operations. Securing the area."

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

**0630 Hours**

The Charger's tires skidded on the snowy pavement as the pair of AFOSI vehicles sped towards Langley Air Force Base. Captain David Henderson, Air Force Office of Special Investigations, noted with displeasure that the transmission needed fixing as well. He would have to talk with the motor pool about that later, but his mind drifted back to the case at hand.

He turned his head back to the rest of his team, all seated in his car, except for Jackson. "Langley had a security breach at oh one thirteen last night. Power was cut, backups were hit as well. No casualties as far as we know, but we know the infiltrators hit the server room, likely to either download something, or introduce a virus into the mainframe. We need to clear the system as fast as possible, or Langley will be in deep shit when SecDef comes to visit in two weeks."

His team nodded in agreement. _His_ team. He wasn't just a Special Agent, like he was in Seoul, he was Special Agent In Charge. Sitting in the passenger seat sat his senior field agent, 1st Lieutenant Hannah Mitchell. She nodded at him, and pointe for Henderson to turn right. The Charger screeched on the pavement, pulling into a gravel driveway that was a little known entrance to Langley. "I swear, if I wasn't here, you'd never make it to any of the crime scenes," she said.

"That's why I hired you. Navigation. Caldwell and Jackson are the comic relief, and Hartmann is the bouncer."

The road looked unguarded, but Henderson knew from his time as an AC-130 FCO stationed here that there were security forces watching his every move. A few minutes later, the truck pulled up to the server room, this time leaving noticeable dark tire marks on the gray tarmac. Several seconds later, the second car drove up, parking in a much neater manner than the first.

A younger looking man wearing a dark gray AFOSI windbreaker stepped out. That was Ryan Jackson, the only civilian agent on their team. The main reason he was there, was so AFOSI could legally detain nonmilitary personnel. Henderson briefly nodded to acknowledge his arrival, and then addressed the rest of his team. "Lieutenant Mitchell, photos, Caldwell, interview the security team. Jackson, perimeter." Henderson turned to the final and newest member of his team; Flight Lieutenant Chris Hartmann, Royal Air Force Special Investigations Branch. He was a liaison officer between the RAF and the USAF, and got to tag along on most of their cases. "Hartmann, help Jackson."

Captain Henderson had only been checking the servers for a few minutes, when Jackson yelled for him. "Cap, we've got a body."

All of the AFOSI agents dropped what they were doing, and headed over to Jackson. He was standing in front of a storm drain, which was nearly overflowing with freezing runoff from snow. A body lay against the security grate, a pair of neat holes in its head. The body also appeared to be wearing a uniform, so Henderson brushed some of the ice off the lapel. His heart sank when he read the words. _United States Navy_. "Crap," he muttered under his breath. AFOSI seemed to always have their cases stolen from them by other agencies. The jarhead in the engine nacelle of a C-130 in Spain, stolen by NCIS. An Air Force pilot found dead at an Army sniper training school, stolen by CID, and most humiliatingly, the Army officer found embezzling millions of JCOS funds, taken over by the exact same agent and her team.

Shaking his head, he pulled out his cell phone, and called Dr. Petrovich, the team's ME. A thick Russian accent spoke at the other end of the phone line. "Who is this?"

Henderson chuckled for a moment. "Still haven't figured out the contact list yet, Doc? It's Henderson. We've got a body at Langley. Unfortunately, it's Navy, so if you want dibs, you'll want to floor it here."

"_Da_, I am on my way. I will be there in two hours."

** "**Make it one and a half."


	2. Joint Investigation

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, nor am I affiliated in any way with the real life organizations of NCIS or AFOSI.

The AFOSI agents in this story are younger, on average than the NCIS agents (Henderson is 36). That's partially the reason why Gibbs doesn't respect Henderson at first, but eventually they'll get along.

And for those who aren't familiar, Borin is a CGIS (Coast Guard Investigative Service) agent, who is basically a female Gibbs.

Whenever I say POV:…. I'm changing the perspective between teams.

Distances: Langley AFB is 2 hours from DC.

**December 27, 2011**

**NCIS Headquarters, Navy Yard**

**0650 Hours**

**POV: NCIS MCRT**

"Gibbs, my office, now."

Supervisory Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs let out a weary sigh, and followed the Director of NCIS, Leon Vance, into his office. Skipping the pleasantries, he cut right to the chase. "What is it, Leon?"

Director Vance handed Gibbs a file. "At oh one thirteen last night, someone attacked Langley Air Force Base. They cut the power, including backup generators, and managed to breach the server control room on site. We don't know what they took, yet, however."

"And this involves us how?" Gibbs was confused. Something like this would be the jurisdiction of AFOSI, not NCIS.

"I was about to get to that, Agent Gibbs." Vance handed Gibbs a second dossier. "Air Force Office of Special Investigations found the body of a Navy Lieutenant Commander that was attached to the base as a liaison. Technically, the body is evidence in an Air Force case, so you'll be working _under_ the AFOSI team assigned."

Gibbs glared at Vance. "_Under_?"

"Captain David Henderson is leading the OSI team. I expect that you will render assistance where it is needed, and you _will_ cooperate fully with your counterparts in the Air Force. Am I clear?"

Gibbs just nodded, and walked out of Vance's office, to the bullpen. Ziva was rummaging through her desk, looking for what, Gibbs didn't know. Meanwhile, DiNozzo and McGee were…

This wasn't the most idiotic thing they'd done _this week_, even. It appeared that his two senior agents were wrestling over a 20 dollar bill. He calmly walked over, snatched the bill from McGee's hand, and slapped both agents on their heads. Hard. "Dead Navy officer. We're working with Air Force Special Investigations, so _cooperate_." The sarcasm was clearly directed at the AFOSI agents who were already working the scene. Gibbs hated cooperative investigations, and he prayed that the AFOSI team was at least somewhat like Borin's. At least they got along well.

**Langley Air Force Base**

**0930 Hours**

The first thing DiNozzo noticed as the NCIS Charger drove onto Langley, was the heavy security. Air Force Base Security officers armed with assault rifles and submachine guns guarded the entrance, and a pair of HMMWVs with turreted machine guns sat parked several yards back. After flashing their badges, the Charger was let through, but he noticed that the guards' weapons remained pointed at the car. He tapped his fellow passenger, Ziva, on the shoulder. "Heavy security. A guy being killed here must be serious business."

Ziva shook her head. "No, one dead man cannot warrant this much security. Something else happened. It's why we're tie-teaming it with the Air Force."

"It's _tag_ teaming, Zee-vah. And it happened on their base, so it's obvious they'd be involved. Gibbs hates working with other agencies for the most part. Let's see how long it takes for him to get in a shouting match with one of the AFOSI guys."

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

Doctor Artyom Petrovich studied the body intently, not even noticing when Henderson skidded down the embankment to join him.

"What do we have, Doc?" Petrovich jumped a little, obviously startled.

"Two gunshot wounds to the head. No exit wounds, so they were either frangible, or short loaded. According to his prints, he's Lieutenant Commander Qiang Chin Lim. I sent you his personnel file on your phone."

Henderson pulled out his smartphone. "Got it. Get Caldwell to help you get the body into the van."

Meanwhile, First Lieutenant Mitchell was taking photographs of the area around the body, being careful to look for shell casings or other signs that someone else had been here. She put a marker down by some tire tracks in the slush, snapped some photos, and moved on. As she walked, a thorn brush caught on her holster, and as she bent down to free it, she saw the glint of plastic lying in the bushes beyond the gulley. Quickly, she ran over, and yelled "Got something! Henderson, get over here!"

**POV: NCIS MCRT**

Gibbs stood at the edge of the embankment, looking down at the body. Ducky wouldn't be pleased with someone else taking their Navy officer, but Vance had made it _explicitly_ clear that they were to cooperate with AFOSI, and that they were in charge, not him. He got pissed quite often at Vance these days. Disrespecting Gibbs and his team was not tolerated, even if it was by the Director of NCIS.

As he watched, a woman in Air Force fatigues yelled out for Henderson. _Must be part of Captain Henderson's team_, he guessed. Gibbs negotiated the slushy embankment as he walked down to join the AFOSI agents, motioning for his team to follow. _Might as well introduce myself and my team_, he thought. As he walked closer to the AFOSI agents, he caught snippets of conversation.

"…DSM, Air Force issue…"

"Do we know what's…"

He walked up to the agents, and flashed his badge. "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS." He gestured at his team. "Agents DiNozzo, David, and McGee, also NCIS."

The man in Air Force fatigues nodded, gesturing to his own badge. "Captain David Henderson, First Lieutenant Hannah Mitchell, AFOSI. Your Director, Vance, told me you'd be here soon. Glad to have your help."

"I wish I could say the same. What do you have?"

"Lieutenant Commander Qiang Chin Lim. Navy liaison to Langley AFB. Dead from two gunshot wounds to the head, found him half-buried in snow down in the drainage ditch. Our ME is loading him into the van as we speak."

"Our ME is en route, and since Lim's Navy, we get the body."

"No can do, Agent Gibbs. He's evidence in the attack on the base. We keep him, but if you want, your ME can tag along for the autopsy."

Ziva and Tony looked at one another. "Gibbs didn't mention an attack, did he?" DiNozzo asked his partner.

"No. But I don't think he is happy that he's not getting the body."

"And when Gibbs gets angry, people die," replied DiNozzo.

As they whispered quietly, Dr. Mallard and Palmer descended the slope, the former looking angry, and the latter looking rather sheepish. "I apologize, Jethro, but Palmer insisted on driving. His navigational skills have yet to improve since the last time he has driven. Now, where is our Lieutenant Commander?"

Gibbs pointed at the AFOSI agents. "Ask them," he almost growled.

Henderson spoke up first. "The body is evidence of an attack on this base that happened at oh one thirteen last night. Our ME is taking the body back to our Quantico headquarters, but we will give you the results of the autopsy if you would like."

Dr. Mallard looked uncomfortable for a moment, then calmed. "Would it be possible for me to assist your ME in performing the autopsy? It could reduce the work required, and I would like to know how our Lieutenant Commander died."

"I can do that." Henderson dropped a lunchbox-sized container into an evidence bag, before handing it to Mitchell, who put it in a backpack.

McGee spoke up first. "Captain Henderson, what is that?"

"DSM. Encrypted data storage module. It's Air Force issue, so it shouldn't be a problem to crack. Why it was tossed in the bushes over there, I have no idea."


	3. Cleaning House

Disclaimer: Not mine.

This depiction of AFOSI is wholly fictional.

Also, there is an AFOSI detachment stationed in DC in real life, so that's Henderson's team in this fic.

**December 27, 2011**

**AFOSI Field Office, Washington D.C.**

**1630 Hours**

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

Henderson walked into Autopsy, where Petrovich was… digging into Lim's brain, trying to extract the bullet fragments. Meanwhile, the Navy ME, Dr. Mallard, was directing him where to probe, using an x-ray taken earlier. "Got anything unusual?"

Petrovich stood up from the body, facing Henderson. "_Nyet_, he was shot with frangible rounds at close range, just as I thought. The lack of flash burns on his face seems to indicate a silencer was used. It would support the fact that nobody heard gunshots."

Henderson nodded. "_Danke."_

Petrovich laughed. "That's German, David, not Russian."

**POV: NCIS MCRT**

Tony, Ziva, and McGee sat, or rather stood, in the AFOSI squadroom, looking bored, and not paying attention at all, when a female AFOSI agent, Mitchell, walked in. "What do you have?" she barked.

Tony and McGee jumped, while Ziva simply put away her impressive knife she was sharpening. Tony narrowed his eyes. "Only Gibbs is allowed to do that."

He swore the Mitchell rolled her eyes at that, before the back of his head exploded into pain. "Well she gets to say it now, DiNozzo," stated Gibbs, who seemingly had appeared from nowhere. Tony looked over at the AFOSI agent. "How are you not surprised by that?"

"Henderson does it too, it's a boss thing. Now, what do we have?"

"Lieutenant Commander Qiang Chin Lim, age forty-three, currently Navy intelligence liaison to Langley. Good reports from all postings, superiors call him 'quiet but hard working'. He lives in a small house in Hampton, Virginia, alone. No wife, not girlfriend, no kids. Graduated from Naval Academy, middle of his class, after emigrating from China at age 13. Nothing really notable about this guy."

"Except that he's dead, and Langley was attacked that same night. It's not a coincidence," said Henderson as he walked in.

Tony groaned. "How do you do that?" _I swear, this guy is just like Gibbs, except with color in his hair, _he thought.

Henderson just smiled, and shook his head. "This guy's far too clean. Check records as far back as high school, see if anyone has any issues with this guy. Something's not right about him. I'm going to check his house, Mitchell, you're with me." He opened his cell phone, calling someone. "Hartmann, get up here. We're going to the vic's house."

"DiNozzo, David, go with them," ordered Gibbs.

**Lim's House, Hampton, VA**

**1800 Hours**

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

Henderson stopped the AFOSI issued Dodge Charger, while the NCIS car parked behind them. "If he has a computer, get it. Look for anything out of place," he ordered as he opened the front door of the house, entering the eerily empty hallway. DiNozzo and Ziva split up, checking each room, opening drawers and cupboards, looking for a laptop or hard drive. "Nothing," DiNozzo declared.

"Same here," said Mitchell.

"Nada. This place is clean. If I didn't know better, I'd say he never lived here."

"And considering he lived a few minutes from his posting, that's a little odd," replied Mitchell.

"I've seen places where people were freakishly neat, and they cannot hold a candle to this bloody place. There is no way Lim lived here. Is it possible he recently sold it?" asked Lieutenant Hartmann, scanning the bedroom.

"No. It would have come up in his financial records," replied DiNozzo. "I'll have McGee check again, though."

"This is getting weirder by the second. No PC, no home phone; this guy probably never lived here," yelled Henderson, from another room.

Ziva walked into the living room, bare of all furniture except for a perfectly clean tan carpet. "Then why would he own this?"

The agents regrouped in the living room. Henderson shrugged. "Dunno. Was he waiting until he left the service?"

"Maybe."

Henderson rolled up the carpet, looking for loose floorboards. "Nothing's loose," he stated. "You guys have anything?"

"Nope."

"No."

Nothing here, Boss."

Henderson shook his head. "This is a dead end. Let's get back to the field office."


	4. False Identity

Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, this AFOSI thing would have happened already. And Franks wouldn't be dead.

This depiction of AFOSI is wholly fictional.

**December 28, 2011**

**AFOSI Field Office, Washington D.C.**

**0600 Hours**

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

Captain Henderson woke to a slight itching in his nose, sitting up rapidly. In doing so, his head connected with the desk he was asleep under, knocking all of the grogginess from his brain. As he rubbed his aching (and probably swelling) head, he heard laughter. He turned around to see DiNozzo, Jackson, and Caldwell cracking up, with Caldwell holding a small feather he had found. Quickly, DiNozzo pulled out five dollars, and handed it to his junior field agent. "I can't believe it, but it actually worked. I have to try that on Gibbs someday."

Henderson scowled, then smirked as Gibbs' hands connected with the backs of the agents' heads. "You're not going to. Might shoot you on the way up." Henderson sat up, gratefully accepting the coffee that the senior NCIS agent had grabbed for him.

"Thanks." Henderson took a long drink of the liquid goodness, and felt as if his body was booting up again. Gibbs simply nodded, and pointed at the screen in the squadroom.

"You find anything?" he asked.

"No. The house was clean. As in, completely clean. Nothing was there, and that's what's wrong. No computer, no TV, no clothes, nothing at all. It's not right."

Gibbs nodded. "How is the DSM going?"

"Your agent McGee, and our lab tech worked through the night trying to crack it. They should be done by now." Henderson checked his cell phone. "I'm going to go down to Forensics, and see why they haven't called me."

**POV: NCIS MCRT**

McGee slowly lifted his head off the computer keyboard, blinking rapidly as his eyes focused. As they did, he saw a body in a lab coat on the floor, and the first thing that came to mind was _Oh no__! I killed him!_ However, the body stirred, and Andrew Carlson, the Air Force team's lab tech, got up. Surprisingly, the tech was awake and clicking away on his laptop before McGee could blink again, mumbling to himself. "Henderson's gonna kill me."

As if on cue, the agent in question walked in, and Carlson jumped almost a foot in the air. "Holy shi- I mean good morning, boss!"

"What do you have, Carlson?"

The lab tech froze for a second, before McGee cut in. "We cracked the DSM, Cap. You're not going to like what's on it." McGee brought up several images on the computer. "Files detailing Patriot missile stations in Taiwan and South Korea, as well as contingency plan Backlash."

Henderson looked confused. "Backlash? As in the contingency plan for a Chinese invasion of Taiwan?"

Carlson nodded.

"Shit. That's not good at all. So, why'd they ditch the DSM?"

"Because it has a GPS tracker on it, and it _should_ have an anticopy spyware installed. But this one didn't. Whoever took this intel copied it onto another module, one that's not ours. Whoever took this information, they're professionals, Cap."

Carlson reentered the conversation. "And I did some digging through Lim's past, just to be sure. Turns out there are _no_ images of him in high school or Naval Academy, and when I checked his transcripts, they turned out to be forged. Lim never went to the Naval Academy, and my bet is, he's not even Qiang Chin Lim at all. We're looking at an unknown here, boss. He's the Qiang Chin Lim who joined the Navy, but he's a blank on everything before that."

Henderson stared at the screen. "You're joking."

"Nope."

"Then we have a serious problem. Lim wasn't a victim, he was a collaborator. Which brings up another issue. Who killed him?"

McGee shrugged. "I don't know. But we'll keep looking."

Henderson nodded. "Good job. Both of you."

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

**0700 Hours**

First Lieutenant Mitchell listened as the two MEs explained their findings. "This man's dental work is from a poor country, Lieutenant Mitchell. It was not done in the United States, and the wear on it indicates it was performed on him when he should have been in high school here," explained Dr. Mallard.

"It does not fit his file. There is no way either of us made that mistake; we checked it several times. It's not possible," interjected Petrovich.

Mitchell nodded. This case was becoming more complicated by the second. As she turned to leave, her cell phone rang. "Mitchell," she answered.

"Got something. Head up to the squadroom," replied Henderson.

She pumped her fist in the air, and walked a little faster towards the elevator. They might have a chance of solving this case yet.

As she almost ran into the elevator, she plowed into Henderson, who was making his way up to the squadroom as well, probably with the "something" he had brought up on the phone.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "A little excited there, are we?" He laughed, picking up the files that Carlson had given him.

"Well the last time I was this excited, you didn't have much of a problem with it," she replied, winking at him.

Henderson rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "I thought I told you to keep this out of work? We don't need to become the butt of every joke in the field office." He gave her a quick kiss. "I promise you, we'll go out for beers or something after this case." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hopefully what I found will get us somewhere."

She nodded. "You'd better keep that promise. I'd hate for a decorated Air Force Captain to go missing." Cue another eye roll from Henderson. "Don't worry. I just don't want this in the office. Especially with the NCIS team here."

"Obviously. They'd probably think our entire team is nuts."

Henderson started laughing, but stopped when the elevator doors opened. "Okay, let's see if we can get somewhere with what we found."

**Yeah, they're in a relationship. Get over it.**


	5. Man Down

**I'm really really really sorry for not updating over the past few months. I had sports and midterm exams, and I was lazy. But, enough with excuses. Back to NCIS.**

**I had one idea for how this case was going, and then a FAR better one came to me in the shower (that's where most ideas come from!). So if there are any inconsistencies, let me know. Other than that, everything's the same.**

**Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. Captain Henderson and his team IS mine, though.**

**And don't nitpick with the dates, please. I won't include them on my next story, so it will flow more smoothly.**

**December 28, 2011**

**AFOSI Field Office, Washington D.C.**

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

Henderson exited the elevator, closing the file in his hands. Looking around, he spotted his team with the NCIS team, gathered around the plasma screen. He smirked a bit, when he realized that their Agent DiNozzo wasn't reviewing case information, but was playing Minesweeper on the big screen. "You know it's illegal to misuse government property, Agent DiNozzo."

The NCIS agent jumped, quickly closing the game. "Sorry Boss- I mean Henderson- I mean Captain Henderson." DiNozzo's reaction only widened Henderson's grin.

"We have something." At that, the rest of both teams shot up, gathering around the screen. "We now know what Lim was after. Backlash: the contingency plan for a Chinese invasion of Taiwan. Obviously, the Chinese would kill to get that information, so at this point it appears that we may have an espionage problem now. However, what we don't know is how deep this guy was in. Agent David, bring in Lim's CO. Agents DiNozzo and McGee, go through Lim's phone records. Look for recurring numbers or times. Mitchell, Jackson. Go canvas the base, look to see if anyone knew or had suspicions about Lim."

The agents all got up, grabbed their sidearms, and exited.

**Conference Room, AFOSI Field Office**

**POV: NCIS MCRT**

Gibbs opened the door to the conference room, allowing Commander Michael Conklin to enter. Since Conklin was Navy, he was going to talk to him, not Henderson. He gestured to a seat at the table. "Please, take a seat, Commander."

The Navy officer sat, leaning back into the chair. "Why'd you bring me here, Agent Gibbs? Did you find a lead with the murder of Lieutenant Commander Lim?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yes, we did. We have reason to believe that Lim was a sleeper agent for an organization in the employ of Chinese intelligence."

Conklin shifted slightly in his seat. "Well, that's a little underwhelming. He always seemed a little on-edge when he was on duty, and he had requested relocation to a position at the Pentagon. Her just gave off that vibe, y'know?"

Gibbs shook his head, playing dumb. "No, I don't."

"Lim went almost AWOL twice, and when he came back, he didn't give me the straight scoop. I didn't press it because he was one of my best analysts, and I couldn't have seen him as a spy at the time. My opinions changed, after he kept becoming shiftier."

Gibbs nodded, mentally taking notes on the conversation. "Did you know much about his personal life?"

"No. He lived on-base, and he never spoke of family or friends. He was a loner."

Gibbs nodded again. "Okay, well I will keep you in touch, Commander."

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs. I hope you guys catch whoever killed Lim."

**Temporary NCIS Squadroom, AFOSI Field Office**

Meanwhile, McGee tapped away on his laptop, sifting through the numbers and letters what would be meaningless to one without serious hacking ability. DiNozzo gaped at the screen. "I have no idea what all that gobbledygook is, but my bet is that he encrypted his calls, so no one could trace them, or even find the numbers," gambled the SFA.

McGee nodded. "However, I am better," he replied, allowing himself a small smirk. "I cracked Lim's code, and he's only been called by two numbers. One phone is the issued phone of his CO, and the other is registered to… a Rong Zan Jiang. A reputed enforcer for the local triad."

DiNozzo patted the younger agent on the back. "Good work, McHacker. We actually have something to go on now. I'll call Gibbs, and we'll bring him in for questioning."

**Jiang's Apartment, Hampton, VA**

Ryan Jackson kept his head on a swivel as the four agents stepped out of the Dodge Charger. Henderson had him tag along with the three NCIS agents to pick up Jiang, in case they needed some extra firepower, which he _most certainly_ did provide. Jackson carried the standard issue Sig, as well as a backup Glock 22, and a knife strapped to his ankle. If the defecation hit the oscillation, he would be ready.

Meanwhile, Ziva was doing the exact same thing. Her "spidey sense," which Tony had named her uncanny ability to find danger, was going crazy. She knew she was being watched; this entire section of town belonged to the Triads. Eventually, her gaze focused on a dark Toyota HiLux about twenty yards down the street, that just oozed menace. She silently opened the holster on her service weapon, and kept looking around while McGee and Tony went to pick up Jiang. As she waited, she heard a loud crash from inside the apartment building, and watched as a running man matching Jiang's description sprinted from the lobby, distracting her attention from the mystery truck.

In a surprising feat of athleticism, Tony performed a flying tackle on the fleeing suspect, cuffing him roughly. "You. Messed. Up. My. Suit. You. Will. Pay," he uttered slowly, dragging the man to his feet, and towards the Charger.

Just as he slammed the door shut, and was sliding into the passenger seat of the car, the windshield spiderwebbed with cracks, from a bullet impact. The "dakka dakka dakka" of some automatic weapon filled the air as bullets pounded into the lightly armored NCIS car. Before he knew it, all four agents had their weapons drawn and were returning fire, but the gunfire wouldn't stop. Then, he saw Ziva jerk twice and collapse. Ignoring ricocheting bullets and glass, he dove over to where her prostrate body lay in a spreading pool of her own blood. He flipped out his phone, and called Gibbs, while Jackson called Emergency Services. "Gibbs, Ziva's hit, we need help NOW!"

**POV: AFOSI CI Team 2**

Henderson saw Gibbs' face tighten when he got the phone call, and immediately grabbed his sidearm and headed downstairs to the garage. There, he started an AFOSI Charger, and grabbed a black case from the trunk. Popping the latches, he withdrew a Mossberg shotgun, with two boxes of shells. "You know how to use this?" he asked Gibbs.

Gibbs considered making a snide retort, but now was not the time. He simply nodded, and began loading the shotgun as the Charger sped out of the parking lot. Henderson checked his watch anxiously. "Hopefully by now SWAT will be on scene, and they'll have taken whoever was wounded to the hospital."

He only got a glare in return. Flashing lights, the Charger broke the speed limit by easily 30 mph, and when a Virginia state cop pulled after them, Henderson kept going, until the cop noticed he was chasing Feds, and stopped. While he was driving, Gibbs was on the phone, likely with his SFA, Agent DiNozzo. "She had better come out of this okay, DiNozzo, or you won't have a job," threatened Gibbs. _So Agent David is the one wounded, _guessed Henderson.

Thirty tense minutes later, the car sped into the parking lot of Hampton Medical Center, and Gibbs jumped out before the car was even stopped. Then, he realized that he was still holding the Mossberg, and put it back into the car. Henderson disembarked much more smoothly, but with the same urgency. One of their own was badly injured.

Both men stormed into the lobby, and up towards the desk. "Status on a NCIS agent brought here with a gunshot wound, Ziva David," growled Gibbs. The terrified nurse jumped back, before checking on the computer.

"She's in surgery now, two GSWs to lower torso, with severe bleeding. She'll make it, though. The agents who were with her are on the third floor. The man they had with them got hit in the arm, but he's stable. We have two local cops with him now," explained the orderly. Gibbs gave a curt nod, and sprinted towards the stairs.

**Third Floor**

DiNozzo paced anxiously, knowing he was in for a beating by Gibbs. Ziva was _shot_. That alone constituted a failure of his self-sworn duty to protect her, and though he knew it was impossible to save her from everything, he thought it wasn't beyond his abilities to keep her from getting shot…

The 'bossman' in question barged down the hallway, causing McGee to back away in fear, and even Jackson flattened himself against the wall. Tony braced for headslaps, but none came. Gibbs just stood there, and patted Tony on the shoulder.

"You coudn't have stopped the bullets, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, slapping Tony on the back of his head. "And that's for thinking you could have," he explained. "Where's Jiang? I need to have a conversation with the bastard."

**Special thanks to Nathalie Andrews for pointing out that Gibbs wouldn't slap Tony six times for something he didn't do. I changed that OOCness, and hopefully this new ending flows better. I know it people aren't going to just get back up from getting shot twice, so expect to see Ziva still hospitalized, or significantly impaired in fics immediately following this.**

**Also, look for the TvTropes reference in this chapter!**

**Also, a subtle hint regarding my next AFOSI casefic: _The Village_. If you know what that is, then you will have somewhat of an idea as to what the next case will involve...**


	6. Revelations

**Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. The federal agency AFOSI depicted in my writing is not mine. All of my OCs are mine. Any resemblance to real people is accidental. All locations are real unless otherwise mentione.**

**The locations depicted in this story are real.**

**A/N: Now this story is kicking into high gear. Due to job interviews and my Eagle Project, I'm gonna be pretty busy, but I'll try to stay as loyal as possible.**

**Also, I have finalized the idea for my second AFOSI fic, and I hope y'all like it. Also, purplechalkwitch is making a drawing of Henderson and Mitchell, and I'll put the link in my profile once she's done.**

**Finally, if you want to use my AFOSI team in any of your fics, feel free too, just don't kill any members, and try to maintain canon (according to my story and character bios). If you want more information on any of the OCs, I can provide it. *bows***

**Enjoy!**

**December 28, 2011**

**Hampton Medical Center, Hampton, VA**

**POV: NCIS MCRT**

Tony took a deep breath before beginning his narrative as to what had happened. "The four of us went to pick up Jiang. McGee and I went into the apartment to grab him, while Jackson and Ziva stood watch outside. Jiang's a triad enforcer, after all. He tried to bolt, but we grabbed him, and when we were about to leave, they opened up on us. We shot back, but they were using an AK or something; we only had our sidearms. Ziva… got hit twice, and went down. I dragged her behind the car, and called you. Hampton PD arrived a few minutes later, found a ton of brass and an AK, but no shooter." He looked pained, obviously because his partner was in surgery right now, from _getting shot twice_.

Gibbs nodded. "I'll deal with Jiang, DiNozzo. You wait for Ziva to get out of surgery. Watch her back, and don't screw up."

The weary SFA nodded, and sat down on one of the cheap plastic chairs that lined the hallway, allowing himself a slight smile at the thought of Jiang handcuffed to a hospital bed with an angry Gibbs standing over him. The man was toast.

Gibbs walked into Jiang's hospital room, noting the bulky Asian man was trying to sit up in his bed, a fact that wasn't helped by the bullet wound in his arm, and the handcuffs locking his wrists down. Seeing the fuming agent only served to make him more anxious (with good reason).

Jiang gave a shit-eating grin, and attempted to shrug, only causing him more pain. "What are you going to do now, _Special Agent_? If you torture me, I go free, and there's no way I'll tell you who shot your precious little agent even if you cut off my -." He was cut off as Gibbs calmly drew a knife, and cut open the bandages on the man's arm. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?"

Gibbs simply shrugged. "You shot my agent," he said simply.

"I didn't. It's not my fault your people trespassed into our territory. Her loss."

Gibbs pressed down on the now open wound, cupping his other hand over Jiang's mouth to stifle any screams. "I suggest you tell the truth. Qiang Chin Lim. Do. You. Know. Him. Was he working for you?"

Jiang snorted. "Get your facts straight, asshole. He wasn't working for me, he was _owned_ by me."

"And what do you mean by that?" Gibbs retorted, tightening his grip on Jiang's wounded arm. "I would hate for something to happen to you here. A lot can go wrong in surgery."

"I owned the guy. He had a debt, and didn't pay it off."

"What debt?"

"I got him into the country twenty years ago, with the snakeheads," Jiang grunted.

Gibbs immediately understood. Lim snuck into the US illegally, and then forged papers to get a commission in the Navy. "Then why is he dead?"

"It is the loose ends with which men hang themselves, and Lim was a loose end. Not anymore," Jiang gave a chuckle.

Gibbs was confused for a moment, but eventually all of the puzzle pieces fell into place. "You forced Lim to steal the DSM. You then could sell the DSM to the Chinese government, so they would continue to look the other way with your little human trafficking business."

Jiang laughed again. "I prefer the term 'low-cost transportation,' but you're smarter than you look, Agent Gibbs. A pity you'll never have enough evidence to find your agent's shooter, and to convict me."

When the prisoner opened his eyes, Gibbs was gone.

**AFOSI Field Office**

Henderson clicked the remote again, shifting the images around on the screen. A small smile came to his face when he heard Mitchell walk up. "Find anything?" she asked softly, very much unlike her brash, impulsive personality.

Henderson nodded. "We found a Makarov PM handgun in Jiang's apartment. He had a silencer, and illegal frangible rounds." He explained, pointing at the TV screen. "We found our murder weapon, and if Gibbs managed to get Jiang to confess, we'll have an airtight case," he trailed off.

"What?" asked Mitchell, running a hand through her hair.

"We still haven't found the DSM, or Agent David's shooter," explained the weary Air Force officer. "Gibbs' team is checking the scene for shells, blood, anything, but it's unlikely that they'll find their man, and the DOD is threatening to take over if we don't get ahold of the DSM soon."

Mitchell nodded. "Well, the first thing we should do, is retrace Jiang's steps, since it's a near certainty that he's Lim's killer. We find where he went, and we'll find the DSM."

"Good idea. Campbell, pull up Jiang's cell records for the past week."

"On it, Cap." A list of incoming and outgoing calls filled the screen.

"Eliminate all of them from Lim, and look only at outgoing calls." This narrowed the choices down to a half-dozen numbers. However, one number stood out. "That's Commander Conklin's personal cell phone number!" Mitchell almost shouted.

"Bingo. Campbell, trace Conklin's cell. We're going to put an end to all this."


	7. Put to Rest

**A/N: This is the second-to last chapter. This one will wrap up the AFOSI storyline involving the espionage, and the next chapter will wrap up NCIS' search for Ziva's shooter.**

**Also, I'm working on some MW2/3 oneshot stories that may tie into the "hero of another story" ideas I've had, as well as the SpecOps missions. I also will put out an AFOSI oneshot this weekend. Don't know what it is yet, so suggest in the comments what you want it to be.**

**Once again, thanks to Purplechalkwitch for her work on her drawing of Henderson and Mitchell. When she's done, I'll post the link on my profile. **

**Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. My OCs are mine**.

**December 28, 2011**

**Dulles International Airport, Washington D.C.**

**POV: AFOSI**

Henderson watched from a distance as the TSA officers pulled Conklin off the line for "extra screening." Campbell had tracked the Navy Commander to Dulles, where he had purchased a one-way ticket to China. _Idiot thought that being Navy would have people not suspect him_, Henderson thought to himself, as he silently followed the TSA officers into the side room, where Conklin sat at a polished metal table, his bags sitting in front of him. "Who the hell are you? This isn't normal! I'm in the Navy, for christsake! I don't even go through _normal_ security!" he argued, pulling out his ID.

Henderson sat down, pulling Conklin's duffel bag towards him. The Navy commander noticeably paled. "What's in here, Conklin? Remember, if you lie, you'll only be in deeper shit," Henderson threatened.

The commander crossed his arms, grinning smugly. "You have no right to search that bag if I agree to leave," he said. The color slowly returned to his face.

This time, Henderson smirked. "Unless you are a suspect in an espionage case, which then you have to stay here. So, once again, is there anything you would like to tell me?" Conklin shook his head. "You do know that the United States government can lock you up for life, if I open this bag, and find what I'm expecting." Conklin gulped, but said nothing.

"Okay then, let's see, shall we?" Henderson unzipped the bag, and immediately felt down under the folded clothes, until he hit something solid. "Oh, what do we have here?" he feigned ignorance. A triumphant smile formed on his face as he saw a hard drive, which he _knew_ held the stolen files.

Henderson thrust his hand into the bag again, pulling up a false bottom, and removing several thick wads of $100 bills. "Th-this isn't what it l-looks like," Conklin stammered, his hands gripping the table so hard that his knuckles turned white as bone.

"Oh, it sure is what it looks like. Conklin, you're going to have to come with us." A TSA officer walked up behind the Navy officer, and cuffed him. "He's all yours, Captain."

Henderson grabbed Conklin, and pulled him to his feet. "We're going to have a little talk now."

**Interrogation Room**

**AFOSI Field Office**

Mitchell grabbed the photographs, the money, and the hard drive, and walked into the interrogation room, where a handcuffed Conklin had sat for the past hour while Mitchell and Hartmann had planned their interrogation. They decided to work "good cop, bad cop", with Mitchell being the "bad cop," and Hartmann playing the "good cop." They decided on said method, because (Mitchell smirked at the thought) Henderson said that Conklin nearly wet himself when he pulled out the hard drive. The Commander was scared, and he knew that he was in trouble. How deep he was in, he didn't know.

Mitchell leaned against the wall, tossing the items onto the table. "I have to admit, that you are royally screwed, Commander. We have all the evidence we need, right here. We don't even need a confession, though it might spare you from a decade in solitary."

Conklin simply sat there in shock, unable to comprehend the amount of shit he was in.

"Are ya gonna say anything? Because if not, we can push the trial up, and I'm sure the judge won't like an uncooperative suspect. You might as well confess now, we have the phone calls between you and the triad enforcer, and we've tracked the money in your bag. Do you know that's all fake bills? The triads tend to do that, and once they get what they want, they usually _kill_ people. Loose less money that way. Tying up loose ends." Mitchell grinned. She had the man backed into a corner, and he was ready to break. It was Hartmann's term.

She walked out, nodding to the RAF officer to enter the room. For the first time in hours, Conklin spoke. "Really? You're swapping interrogators? You won't get further than that bitch got."

Hartmann smiled. "Already did, I got you to speak. Now, my colleague is one hundred percent truthful when she says that the triads are going to kill you. Do you want to die, Mr. Conklin? I'm figuring that you don't. So here's how it goes. You confess, and we may soften your prison term, and we'll make sure the triads don't touch you. How's that for a deal?"

Conklin's indignant look disappeared, and the Navy officer closed his eyes for a minute. "Damn, I've really fucked up, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have, but you can at least salvage some of it if you cooperate. I promise, no harm will come to you. We have the enforcer you were working with in custody right now."

Conklin nodded slowly. "Crap," he swore under his breath. "Fine."

Hartmann smiled. "You made the smart choice, Mr. Conklin. Now tell us what the bloody hell happened to get a Navy officer like you into this mess."

Conklin sighed, and began. "I needed money; my Navy salary wasn't cutting it, so I started small-time. Deliveries between groups in the US, and I'd get through because I was in the military, and I didn't have to go through security. Then, Lim came along, and Jiang, the guy I was working with, told me that he needed classified intel to get the Chinese government's approval to let him keep running his operation. If he got shut down, I lost my paycheck, and Lim would be killed. Jiang told me that Lim would get the DSM, and he would copy it, and they would return like nothing ever happened. Then, I would take the copied data, and sneak it onto a flight to China, where I'd hand it off to someone there. Then Jiang killed Lim. That bastard lied. I stuck with it simply because I needed the money. Nothing more. I was going to stop after this job, because of what happened to Lim, ya know?"

"Your file says you were due for a promotion within a month, Conklin. You would have gotten more money had you just waited, and done the right thing. Instead, you actively funded a human smuggling operation, and lead to the death of a man who was under your command. And even after Lim was killed, you _still _went along with the operation."

Conklin was silent.

"You had many chances to turn yourself in, and save Lim's life. Instead, you continued. You do realize what you have done?"

He nodded, looking down at the photos of Lim's dead body.

"You have committed espionage, received bribes, been an accessory to murder and human trafficking, and," Hartmann sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "You smell terrible. Honestly, I know you were busy stealing classified intelligence, but couldn't you have showered?"

Hartmann cleared his throat. "Anyways, Mr. Conklin, you are hereby under arrest for crimes of espionage, treason, perjury, accessory to murder, and possessing stolen property. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

Behind the mirrored glass, Henderson gave Hartmann a thumbs-up.

**Yeah! They got the baddie! Jiang's arrest will be shown in the next chapter, as well as NCIS's search for Ziva's shooter.**

***brohoof***


	8. Tying Up Loose Ends

**A/N: It's the last chapter! Hooray!**

**Anyways, Purplechalkwitch is still working on the drawing of Mitchell and Henderson.**

**A note about the time difference between this fic and current NCIS canon: That time in between is when Ziva is recuperating from her injuries. She would have been on desk duty when Ray proposed, but for canon's sake, I'm going to say that everything in Season 9 happened more or less the same way, except for a break in January when Ziva was recuperating from her injuries.**

**Before my next casefic, I'll be posting an AFOSI oneshot: tell me what you want it to be, and I might write it! EDIT: Posted one, dealing with Mitchell's experiences in Afghanistan**

**I'm also going to start a series of Call of Duty oneshots that tie into the backstory of MW2 and MW3, include mostly OCs, and might add some backstory to the Spec Ops missions. They also will be written to "play" like a campaign mission, with appropriate firefights and things going boom.**

**Finally, I've started posting a long-term post-apocalyptic story on Fictionpress. My account has the same name on there.**

**Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine, but my OCs are. PM me if you want to use them in a story.**

**December 29, 2011**

**AFOSI Field Office, Washington D.C.**

**POV: NCIS MCRT**

Gibbs examined the rifle that had shot one of his agents. It battered wooden stock was bolted on roughly, identifying it as a cheap Chinese copy of the original AK. It could still do a great deal of damage. Gibbs turned the weapon over, looking for various identifying marks that could identify its owner, and the shooter.

As he ran his hand down the wooden handguard, he felt a prick of pain. Withdrawing his hand, Gibbs noticed that the handguard had several rough spots, giving him a splinter. As he returned to the weapon, he noticed a few drops of his blood marring the finish, as well as dark drops of someone else's on another rough patch.

He knew how to find their shooter. "Carlson, get over here. I need a swab."

The lab tech walked over. "You find something?"

"Can you get DNA from this blood?" Carlson nodded.

"Shouldn't be a problem. It the shooter's?" Carlson picked up the rifle, and turned around, to find the senior NCIS agent gone. "Hmph," he grumbled to himself, and began picking out the bloody splinters of wood. With luck, the DNA results would be back within a day.

**Hampton, Virginia**

**December 30, 2011**

DiNozzo and McGee walked down the street, keeping their eyes on upper floor windows. Under their NCIS windbreakers, they each wore bulletproof vests; standard issue since ZIva was shot. As the duo walked down the street, Tony saw shards of glass, and the parked wreckage of their NCIS car. It hadn't been moved yet.

As the agents walked around the car, Tony saw a splatter of blood on the hood. It was Ziva's. In his mind's eye, he saw her jerking twice, as the bullets tore into her, before slumping to the ground in her own blood. He'd never admit it to anyone, maybe not even Gibbs, but at that point he was more frightened for her life, than for his own. Then again, since that bastard was nigh-omnipotent, he probably already knew.

Tony tried to clear his head, but as they walked down the street, he couldn't shake the thoughts of _what could have been_. If he hadn't stopped the bleeding in time. If the rounds had hit any higher. If the gunman hadn't fled, and had continued to return fire. He remembered his bucket list; a trivial thought at the time, with the exception of number twenty-six. If anything more had gone wrong that day, he would never have been able to cross that off. And considering how important that was to him, it very well could have turned him into the next Gibbs. At least with colored hair, he added mentally.

With that, Tony decided that sometime, before something really took one of them, he _had_ to cross that off. The only problem was that prick, CI-Ray. Then again, considering how he hadn't spoken to her in at least a month, could mean that-

"Tony! Your cell!" He was broken out of his reverie by McGee shouting something about his cell phone. Oh. It was ringing. He pulled it out, and pressed Answer. "Gibbs?"

"We've got our shooter. Name is Liam Hong. Born here, has family in China. Apartment 1408, 6 Briarfield Road."

"1408, boss? Really? Please tell me Samuel L.-" Gibbs cut him off.

"Bring the bastard in."

"On it, Boss." Tony turned to McGee, who raised an eyebrow. "We've got a name. Liam Hong. 6 Brookmere Road, apartment 1408. I'm not kidding," he added when McGee asked about the apartment number.

The duo drew their SIG handguns, and moved at a faster pace towards the apartment complex. Tony walked through the revolving door, flashing his NCIS badge at the doorman. As the duo walked in, McGee surveyed the area, looking for anyone who might take a shot at the two agents.

A man sat in the corner, on an iPod, headphones in his ears. He didn't match Hong's description. A slightly overweight woman walked out of the elevator; obviously not Hong. After he was certain the area was clear, McGee nodded. The two NCIS agents walked towards the elevator to make their way to the 14th floor.

Tony pressed the button, hearing the faint 'ding' of the elevator as it arrived at the lobby floor. The doors whisked open, revealing a slight looking Asian man, carrying a duffle bag. They started at each other in shock for a split second, before Hong shoved past Tony, and sprinted into the lobby. The gunman pulled a machine pistol out of his duffle bag, and sprayed wildly back into the lobby as he ran off.

McGee and Tony ran in pursuit, their safeties off, and their weapons drawn. Tony doubted Hong would be taken alive. More rapidfire gunshots rang out, as Hong unloaded his weapon into a passing car, before hauling out the bleeding and stunned driver. He jumped in, slamming the door shut.

At this point, Tony had a choice; risk losing Hong, and the bastard who shot Ziva, by finding a vehicle and pursuing, or return fire, knowingly incurring an IA investigation, and a shit ton of paperwork. Both agents chose the latter, firing at Hong's silhouetted form in the driver's seat. The car accelerated nonetheless, so the duo kept firing.

Within seconds, however, the car swerved wildly, slamming into a parked taxi. The perforated windshield had dislodged from the car, but the Plexiglas hadn't shattered, and Hong's limp form was draped over the steering wheel. Keeping his weapon raised, Tony approached the driver's side door, swinging it open to check Hong's pulse. It was faint, but it was present.

Cutting the seatbelt with his knife (Rule 9), he dragged the badly injured assassin out of the car, applying pressure to the man's wounds. As he did so, his mind flashed back to the same actions, except Ziva was the one lying on the pavement bleeding out. Why was he trying to save the man who nearly killed her? The bastard who could have put her in Ducky's morgue, instead of Bethesda? His pressure slackened for a moment, and blood began to seep through his fingers. _No_, he thought. He wouldn't become a cold-blooded killer for her. Saleem was an exception. The _only_ exception. He remembered the shit Gibbs got in when his revenge mission for his wife was exposed. Would he ruin his life for such a thing?

_No_, he resolved, knowing that even Ziva, the former Mossad assassin, would not approve of this. With redoubled effort, he pressed down on Hong's wounds. The bastard would be in the hospital for a while, and prison for even longer. It wasn't enough to calm his nerves now, but he reassured himself that it was the right thing to do.

Tony looked up, as paramedics arrived on scene, cuffing Hong to a stretcher, and applying more competent care to his wounds. He looked over at McGee, who was on the phone with Gibbs, informing their boss of the development. It was over. At this point, this case was less about finding the leak; the Air Force could deal with that; but it was about getting justice for one of their own, gunned down doing her job. For the first time in his life, Tony silently said a prayer of thanks, that Ziva was still alive, and that he hadn't murdered Hong in anger.

**One thing I noticed was that my chapters are pretty short compared to other NCIS stories. I promise, my next casefic, while still the same # of chapters, will be much longer.**

**Also, while my next casefic takes place between now and the NCIS season finale, future ones might tie into the massive interagency manhunt for Dearing. Possibly including cameos by Misfit team and the Task Force 141 (since Dearing is officially a wanted terrorist).**


End file.
